I have finished reading Her Hidden Children: The rise of Wicca and Paganism in America by Chas S. Clifton and I have to say I am glad I read the book. It’s a solid piece of scholarship.

That may not seem much in the way of praise, but it is really. Not that there aren’t things about the book that I find “interesting,” there are and I will tell you about them shortly but let me digress just a bit before I do.

There is another author the I have have spoken of here, Arthur Versluis. While I find his subject area fascinating, what I could never get past is the fact that his books read like apologetics while taking the shape of a scholarly examination. These are not the same thing at all. I don’t care at all what the beliefs of the scholar are about his subject area. I do care if he or she is able to think past them for the purposes of a clear examination of what is in fact the case. Versluis doesn’t seem to be able to do that very well and Clifton can.

Still (and here is where I find “interesting things” in the text), Clifton’s personality and personal beliefs do pop up occasionally throughout the book and, I should say, I was delighted by the appearance of those because otherwise the book, while good research, is written with a rather dry style. But I think there is a reason for that. Whether conscious or unconscious, I suspect Clifton is compensating for the somewhat precarious position pagan studies has in the academic world, and the even more delicate position out-pagans have in most academic departments. It’s like the first woman doctor – I bet she had to really work hard to prove she was as good as her male colleagues. It’s not rational, but change stirs up some deep wells of irrationality and taking pagans and paganism seriously is asking for a pretty big change for most academics. It’s this, I think, that explains Clifton’s writing style.

So here’s one of the twinkly bits. In chapter five (West Coast Wicca) there is this:

Two other legacies of the feminist Witchcraft of the 1970s are the concept of consensus-based decision making and, as noted above, a free-form approach to history and mythology that valued “empowerment” over documentation. The consensus decision-making process, already familiar to Quakers and to political anarchists, and modeled in some instances on tribal practices, offered a challenge to hierarchical coven structure and lineages. (On the other hand, people who have studied with famous feminist Witches such as Starhawk and Budapest usually manage to work that fact into their conversation.) Occasional critics of the consensus process will note that strong individuals seem to get their way even through consensus-based decision making, but the model of more egalitarian, fluid leadership is now firmly in place in many Wiccan circles. (emphasis mine)

A moment please: snort, giggle…OK

There’s Clifton the community member and participant. It speaks to his experience as a believer and adds an evaluative touch to the work really only possible for those who are both insiders and academics. And while such a tone transgresses the cautious scholarly (dry) tone he has so carefully established, it does no harm at all the the value of the study. This, I think, is because while his personality shows through (his insider status appears at these moments) what never happens — his belief never overshadows his scholarship. This is what Versluis does (over and over), why I think of his work as apologetics, and what irks me when reading his books, since I see the facts of the subject area as important.

Another brief digression: one of my favourite books is Awash in a Sea of Faith by Jon Butler. The chapter in there on the occult in American religion is both important and very well done. Partly this is the scholarship (very good), but partly this is the fact that Butler is there as a person while never straying from his choice to place facts in precedence to whatever his personal beliefs may be. His writing style allows for the natural assimilation of personality and a dedication to a factually-based reality.

This balance of a personality-based style and scholarship is what Clifton misses, but I suspect this has nothing to do with his capacities as a writer and everything to do with the position pagan studies holds in the larger academic world—and Clifton’s ideas about how to compensate for that tenuousness. And you know this isn’t a problem, because as I said, I am glad I read the book. I have a couple of new things to think about and a couple of resources that were brought to my attention that I now want to check out. But it is interesting, this example of how belief and scholarship resonate in the larger culture and how one can work past the obstacle that an unfortunate conjunction of those forces can become.

It reminds me of some advice a professor gave me once. He said a PhD isn’t the place for outrageous things. It’s the time to prove yourself. Once you’ve done that then be as out-there as you want. Good, solid advice given the nature of the academic world. And I suppose pagan studies (especially by pagans) is there still, still proving itself.